The FiftyFifth President
by SerenLyall
Summary: The Fifty-fifth president has just been elected, and the people are in love with him. But...who is this new leader of our great country? Somehow, I don't think O'Neill would be very happy...


**Disclaimer:** Stargate is not mine, and it never will be. The event in this is in no way related to anything in real life other than the fact that there is a president elected. In fact, I don't even know for sure if it's very true to tradition. So any parallels to real life or real events that may be found in this are in no way purposeful.

**Rating:** K

**Category:** Humor

**Time frame:** post SGU...try approximately 80 years in the future. Everyone's dead and passed on in old age...well, _almost _everyone, that is...

**A/N:** This has been a small story that's been in my mind for a while. Finally, in band class today, I just decided to sit down and write it out. For now it's marked as complete, but I may randomly add other short tales afterwards. I hope you all enjoy this little piece that I jotted down, and I would LOVE it if you'd click that nice, new and improved blue button on the bottom of the page. Thanks! And enjoy :D

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The Fifty-Fifth President

"I would just like to thank every single one of you," the just-elected president said, looking straight into the camera and out into the world beyond the lens. Every person on the other side smiled, feeling as if the charismatic, elegant young man was speaking to them and them alone. "It is only because of you that I have been awarded this great honor, and the amount of faith and trust that you have placed in me truly humbles me." He flashed a brilliant smile, and those in the audience that weren't completely head-over-heels infatuated with the man rolled their eyes at his latest comment – that smile alone proved just how _un_-humble he really was.

As his voice died away, the crowd erupted into loud cheers, and a thunder of applause drowned out all other sounds. The brown-haired man lifted one hand regally, and almost instantaneously the crowd quieted, leaning forward to hear whatever his next words would be.

"I have great plans for this nation, and fully believe that that, along with your help, we can bring this nation back from the ashes and into its former glory. Nay, I believe that we can rise above our forefathers, and take our rightful place in the galaxy as the leading power!" Once again, the crowd swelled with approval, and the crash of a thousand feet stamping on the pavement reverberated around the monument.

The man bowed slightly, a smirk playing around his eyes. He had one more thing to say.

The just-elected president reached over and rested his hand on the shoulder of the metal statue of General Jack O'Neill, the first leader of SG-1, and well-known hero of Earth. His hat was cocked jauntily on the top of his head and he had a smirk that rivaled even the new president's. Standing just behind him was a statue of General Samantha Carter-O'Neill, who held a small device in one hand. To her right stood the immortal image of Daniel, who seemed to be laughing, and held his place in a heavy tome with one finger. Behind all of them, guarding his family for all eternity, stood Teal'c, a staff weapon in hand, and an almost imperceptible smile tickling across his features.

"I can't tell you all how special and touching this entire moment is to me," the man said, gesturing around the entire monument and the people thronging beneath him to hear his 'thank you' speech. His voice cut through the hubbub beneath him, and once again the crowd fell almost deathly silent. "This man, no, this entire team," he gestured to the statues by his side, "inspired me more than anyone else," he said, and looked fondly up at the snarky Colonel. "I just hope that one day you may see me as a hero worthy of speaking in the Stargate memorial."

As the crowd, yet again erupted into cheers, the man leaned over as if he were whispering a secret to the metal man beside him. His eyes danced, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"I hope you're rolling over in your grave, O'Neill. This is your punishment for all those years of impudence." Ba'al straightened, and looked over the people – _his_ people – as they chanted his name.

The next four years were most certainly going to be interesting. There was no mistake of that.


End file.
